


Can't Be

by Basic_Spirit



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers to Enemies, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Land of Departure, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pregnancy, Sad Ending, Somewhat canon-compliant, Soulmates, Xehanort is Terra's father, no dlc spoilers, this story is kind of trashy ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basic_Spirit/pseuds/Basic_Spirit
Summary: Eraqus and Xehanort wanted it to work. They gave it their best shot. They spent years trying to navigate their unique bond. But they couldn't be what the other needed.
Relationships: Eraqus/Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), minor Eraqus/OC and Xehanort/OC
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this back and the summer and I've always kind of liked it. I usually hate writing with OCs so they really play a minor role - mostly just to make Xehanort jealous. There's something so tantalizing about Xehaqus that I'd written lots of little things but I think this is my favorite. Hopefully you enjoy too! :)

The Land of Departure was a peaceful world: the air was soft, the breeze was light, the ancient stained glass windows filled the halls with gentle ambiance. The many inhabitants always slept easy knowing this world was sheltered from darkness thanks to many generations of light. 

Friday nights were Eraqus’ favorites; after a long week of work, it was always a relief to have a few days to himself, to rest, to prepare for the coming days. This night was a particularly beautiful one, the sky blue with midsummer light, the brightest starts just starting to shine through. He waited in the courtyard, the wind barely ruffling his robes, gazing out at the horizon. As always, he was waiting. In the distance, one faint star began to drift down. Pan in on the horizon, perfectly flat. 

Fast cut to Eraqus’ bedroom, his bed framed parallel to the horizon, the two heatedly on each other, Eraqus on top, Xehanort on his stomach. One of Eraqus’ hands is holding Xehanort down by his shoulder, the other is against the wall, Xehanort’s clasped beneath it. The energy was almost ferocious between the two (as per usual). They didn’t need words when they saw each other – things always sounded worse before, anyway. Bodies flush, Xehanort’s long, silver hair pooled on the pillow, askew in his face, the pillow before him muffling his cries as he is too overwhelmed to be proud, too busy soaking up his partner’s aura to hesitate. “Yes,” he breaths, hand grasping Eraqus’. He wants him to finish. They are both practically at their climax, Xehanort eager to please, They finish in succession, Eraqus first, then Xeh shortly after his partner pulls out. The energy has peaked and they both slowed and eventually stilled. Both were panting: sweaty, hair mussed and faces barely visible in the dim ambient light. Eraqus is so beautiful to Xeh, the light from the moon catching on his face. On his side, one hand trailed over, stroking his hair, then his cheek, moving in and kissing him gently, barely a peck. When Eraqus doesn’t react, Xehanort pulled back, trying not to read into it.

They don’t care about cleaning up now – it’s too late (later than usual) and neither wishes to shatter the fragile energy the air holds. They continue to lie there, staring at each other admiring, pondering. Eraqus was the one to break it today: “You were late.” That teasing tone always crept in. 

Xeh was grinning, post-coital good mood easing his usual seriousness. “Yes, it would seem I – _again_ – am the one taking work more seriously.” 

Eraqus found that a hard statistic to believe. “Really?” He rolled onto his stomach, arms crossed under his chin. “What, exactly, kept you so busy on a Friday night?” 

Xehanort was smirking. “Far too long a story for now. You clearly need your beauty rest.” 

“You are not going to taunt me like that,” Eraqus affirmed, eyebrows drawing daringly. “Go on, out with it.”

One of Xehanort’s hands danced over the slope of Eraqus’ back. “A light festival,” he recalled. .”Beautiful lanterns, an annual tradition. I’ve got at least ten pages of notes. Really incredible stuff.” 

Eraqus rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Taking notes at a festival. You wouldn't _dare_ consider enjoying yourself.”

Xehanort’s hand stopped again at the nape of Eraqus’ neck, losing its fingers in his hair. “It reminded me of you,” he murmured, “You’d have loved it. I intend to take you with me next year.” 

Now, Eraqus’ eye rollings were to hide the redness in his face. He was clearly flattered. “You don’t have to pretend to be a romantic for me.” 

Xehanort’s eyebrows quirked playfully. “Oh, so you saw that as a romantic proposition?”

Eraqus chuckled softly, shaking his head and burying his face in the pillow. “Go to sleep,” he commanded. “I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Although the atmosphere was still teasing, Eraqus’ eyes changed quickly as his partner began to gather the sheets, preparing to depart from the bed. When his hand found Xehanort’s arm, the elder offered, “I really should be sleeping in my own room.” 

“Stay,” Eraqus dismissed, “No one cares about formalities like that anymore. We’ll be up early enough to go unnoticed, anyway.” 

So, the two slept soundly together, a foot between them in the bed. (They were used to sleeping alone). Saturdays were always busy, so once the sky began to brighten, the two began to stir. They made love again, starting more gently but ending rougher than the previous night. Eraqus was on his feet, hands on Xehanort’s hips on the edge of the bed, hissing obscenities under his breath. Eraqus came inside, more enthusiastically than the night before. Xehanort knew his partner was moving differently but tried to dismiss it as tiredness. 

After, Xehanort returned to his designated room and Eraqus showered. The white-haired man was still too proud to walk out of Eraqus’ room with him, even after all these years. 

The Land of Departure would never feel like a home to Xehanort – at least, never as much as it would for Eraqus. It was just another lodging, another confining set of walls, another intermission before the next question. Xehanort was not particularly fond of it, either; although its architecture and history were quite impressive, Eraqus always spoiled it by inviting in colorful characters. Walls like these were serene and serious, commanding respect, and to see them treated like a bed and breakfast made Xehanort think it profane.

Well, he was using it as a hookup location, so he didn’t feel _that_ bad. 

Regardless of his overarching opinions, most of his weekends were spent here. He liked routine, and Eraqus was almost painfully constant. He left his few belongings in his room, brushing his hair and dressing in his casual weekend robes. He was hoping to avoid the other residents as best he could, but he knew privacy was something he’d only get after dark. 

His nose led him to the kitchen where he disappointingly found his second favorite colleague behind the stove, Master Yen Sid. He was a few years the duo’s elder, but trained under the same Master, so they shared many experiences. “Good morning, Xehanort,” the elder greeted him. “I trust your travels have been safe and productive?” 

“As much as they can be,” Xehanort admitted. “What are you cooking? It smells delicious.” 

“Everything smells delicious to a starving man,” Yen Sid teased. “Here, help yourself.” He slid a bowl towards Xehanort, filled with potatoes, vegetables, and egg. Xehanort dipped his head in appreciation. 

He hardly had a moment to sit and eat before Eraqus appeared in the doorway, the mood in the room changing instantly. Things were delicate between the two, to say the least. Their passion was undeniable, but they were confined by expectations, responsibilities. Still, Xehanort couldn’t deny that Eraqus was breathtaking at times, including the present. For some unfathomable reason, Eraqus was dressed to the nines, his full blouse, chest plates, most prestigious gold-embroidered robe. His hair was neatly curled and braided back in the front, his beard was brushed. It was times like these where he looked truly grown up – his jaw more apparently angular and his physique more striking. 

However, as always, Xehanort’s admiration gave way to skepticism, paranoia. Yen Sid looked no different, so why did Eraqus…? 

“Congratulations, old friend,” Yen Sid boomed, abandoning the stove and shaking Eraqus’ hand. “Many thanks for your years of diligent service.” 

“I have always been happy to fulfill my duty,” Eraqus faithfully answered. 

“You have brought our Master great honor.” Yen Sid was so proud. 

Xehanort exhaled, losing his appetite and putting his head in one hand. “Ten years since you became warden of the Land of Departure,” he murmured. 

Eraqus was getting closer, arms crossed. “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

That tone, accusing but prideful. The two of them always tended back to petty arguments like these, over nothing, for nothing. (Maybe because they knew they’d be arguing about important things if they weren’t wasting their time on the mundane.) Xehanort always egged him on, defending himself when he should’ve just let it go: “I didn’t forget–”

“Look at you!” Eraqus exclaimed, gesturing to Xehanort’s lack of effort. “We’ve been talking about this for months! Master Adara will be here and the festivities will last all week. I hope you’ve planned accordingly for the time away from your research.”

Xehanort shook his head helplessly. “Well, it doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice, now.”

“I _knew_ you forgot,” Eraqus accused. The tension made an uncomfortable Yen Sid take his breakfast to another room, thankfully giving the two some privacy to argue. The younger sat at the far end of the table, slumped and disappointed. “You know how much this means to me.” 

“I’m happy for you,” there was already strain in Xehanort’s voice, “but I can’t be _that_ happy for you because I know I’ll never have anything like this.” 

Eraqus let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you have any idea how selfish that sounds?” 

Xehanort didn’t. “I work just as hard as you, if not harder,” he challenged, “but I will never be recognized like this because I’m not like you, Eraqus.” His tone was harsh, hurtful. “I don’t come from a Keyblade legacy. I don’t get expensive armor or my own land to host all my friends and play hero in. Everything I have, I’ve earned myself.” Now, Kingdom Hearts would rise before Xehanort would admit he was jealous of Eraqus, but he wouldn’t hesitate to rub it in. All he wanted was to make Eraqus ashamed of the source of his pride. 

Eraqus’ brow was furrowed. “We’re not doing this now,” he decided, putting an end to their painful back and forth. “If you really are staying around, you better play nice.” 

Xehanort took a breath, trying to cool off. He didn’t really want to fight, it always just happened. Eraqus was on his feet, pouring himself water, restless and irate. He paced for a moment, trying to figure out what the right thing to say was. “I’m sorry you have to feel that,” he finally managed, voice short. “I can’t change who I am.” Another pause. “I don’t want to fight with you. I hate this.” 

Xehanort was still shaking his head dismissively, "it doesn't matter. It's all so... pointless. Get back over here and sit down, eat something." Eraqus approached and did as he was told. Xehanort couldn't stop staring at him, feeling so weak. He almost wished he didn't have to feel this way about his oldest friend. "... you look very nice."

A small smile graced Eraqus' lips and he reached up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "Thanks," he admitted bashfully. As he tucked the hair back behind his ear, a thin, jeweled ring sparkled on his hand. Left hand, fourth finger. That was new.

Xehanort's mouth was dry. "What's that?" he asked, voice almost shaking. (What was he so scared of?)

"What?" Eraqus was so nonchalant. Xeh gestured with his head toward his hand. "This?" Eraqus himself seemed puzzled by it. "New ring."

Xehanort was not convinced: Eraqus was not one to wear jewelry. Everything he wore, he wore with intention. He wouldn't risk tearing off a finger for aesthetic purposes. Still, Xehanort tried his best to play along although his doubt carried into his voice. "You chose that?"

Eraqus was visibly uncomfortable. "No, not really..." As Xehanort continued to stare him down, he moved his hands to his lap. "Look, now is not a good time to talk about this."

"Really?" Xehanort was getting frustrated. "When is? When exactly were you planning to tell me about this?"

True. Eraqus' eyes were on the table, his face as serious as he'd ever seen. "It doesn't mean anything," he dismissed. "My parents finally set up my arranged marriage."

Xehanort's mind blared a thousand warnings; everything he'd just heard seemed so wrong. He didn't know where to start, paralyzed in disbelief. He stammered for a second before finally managing: "Are you serious?"

Eraqus stared at him, a look of something near shame on his face. Xehanort's voice tended to incredulousness as he continued to berate his partner: "You're thirty years old. You've been living on your own - living here - for _ten_ years. And you're really marrying someone your parents told you to?"

Eraqus voice was filled with disdain. "How do you think Keyblade lineages get this long? Do you really think my parents met by chance? It is my duty -" Xehanort was rolling his eyes hard enough to interrupt the other man. Eraqus glared. "I don't have a say in this, okay? I can't change who I am."

Xehanort was shaking his head again. "For years... for _years_ you've known about this, we've talked about this. You've always dismissed it, you said you wanted students - I thought that's what _this_ ," he gestured to the land around him, "was all about!"

Eraqus' eyes were narrow. "You know I want children," his voice was surprisingly soft. " _My own_ children." Ah yes, one thing (among many) Xehanort could never provide him with. This made the elder lapse into silence, knowing there was nothing he could do now without making things even more uncomfortable between the two. Eraqus mistook Xehanort's silence for a willingness to listen. "She's not a stranger," his voice was even quieter now. "She trained in Scala with us, though she's a few years younger. Her name is Anthea, she's a Master -"

Xehanort couldn't sit by any longer. "Stop," he interrupted. "Just stop. You are," he grit his teeth, "the most infuriating, difficult, unrealistic person I've ever met! Do you really believe this means nothing? I know you've always gotten everything you have ever wanted, but you can't have it both ways!"

"This isn't about you," Eraqus stood up for himself.

"But I'm still going to have to pay for it," Xehanort was scowling. "Is tradition really worth it? Worth more than me?"

"No," Eraqus' confession was soft. "But this... will never be anything. I'm not gay, Xehanort, you're not -"

He stopped abruptly as another figure appeared in the doorway. It was another colleague currently living in the Land of Departure, one Xehanort didn't know the name of. He was a younger man, mouth gaping at the tense energy. "Uh, I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"Nope," Xehanort was getting up, shoving his chair back. "We're done." He stomped out the other end of the kitchen, leaving the younger Master to deliver news to Eraqus and to realize just how badly he'd fucked things up.

* * *

Xehanort hadn't been this angry in a long time. He hated that he even cared; he hated that he had to feel this pain when Eraqus was clearly unbothered. He hated even more that it was this week of all weeks, one where he had to keep up appearances. Eraqus really couldn't have picked a worse time. All he wanted was to be alone, to be able to think, to have the open road and open sky before him. That was when he was in tune, when he could be one with the world. This stuffy palace life was not for him.

But here he was trapped, for Eraqus, for his own good. He isolated himself at the edge of the world, enjoying the easy summer air, trying to put the awful dissonance out of his mind.

He baked in the midday sun, eventually retreating to the castle to shower and prepare for the inaugural dinner. Their Master, Adara, would surely be there. It wasn't like she wasn't used to the constant bickering, so at least they wouldn't have to hide that. Xehanort redressed in his more formal robes (not that he had any anywhere as distinguished as Eraqus') and combed his hair, leaving one more button open on his shirt than he perhaps should have. He was magnificent at playing along, poker face at the ready, eager to get these hellish formalities over with so he could talk (read: fuck) some sense into Eraqus in private.

The grand hall was all set for the festivities when he went down shortly after five, the long table full of plates, utensils, dozens of chairs. The head of the table, usually reserved for their Master, would be Eraqus' today. A few other strangers were milling around, but Xehanort never minded the solitude. He took his seat where he belonged, at Eraqus' right hand. (Let's be honest, he deserved the head of the table - he was older, stronger, and had accomplished far more in the past ten years. Still, he knew his place; although he was the better of the two, this wasn't the place.)

As it neared 5:30, more people arrived, none of which particularly interested Xehanort. There was a particular lack of people who were event remotely relevant: Yen Sid, Master Adara, and Eraqus were nowhere to be found.

Of course, fate would have it the three would arrive at the same time, but not only as a threesome - another joined them. Xehanort stood as his Master approached, bowing shallowly.

"Master Xehanort," she greeted cordially. "I'm glad to see you've returned safely from your travels."

Xehanort was expressionless, nodding. "Well, I don't plan to stop any time soon."

"Nor did I expect you to" her smile was warm but her eyes were serious. She took her designated place at Eraqus' left-hand side."

"Xehanort," Eraqus was addressing him in his politest, most princely voice. "This is Anthea. Anthea, this is Xehanort, my oldest and most trusted friend." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you." She had the tone mastered, too, bowing to Xehanort. She was conventionally beautiful: thin and brown, hair smooth and long. Her hand was decorated with the same ring as Eraqus. She made Xehanort's blood boil. "I don't want to get between two friends, but I believe this is the spot in which I'm supposed to sit. You can sit beside me if you'd like."

Xehanort wordlessly stepped back from the seat, eyes narrow. Anthea continued to smile innocently, reaching to pat a hand on his shoulder. Xehanort stepped away, dodging her. "Don't touch me," he deadpanned, anger sparking beneath his calm exterior.

Eraqus shot him a glare for half a second but smiled again when Master Adara looked in his direction. Xehanort's narrowed eyes never left his face as he slowly circled the table, taking the seat one down from their Master, Yen Sid between them.

Eventually, the table was filled and the dinner began. Eraqus and Xehanort had been to countless formal dinners since their formative years, so they knew how to behave. These events were always just elaborate people watching sessions for Xehanort, always on the sidelines, always gathering info. Tonight, however, his eyes didn't leave Eraqus. When he'd first laid eyes on that ring, his stomach had tightened and he'd filled with an uncomfortable upsetness, but now, with her before him, all he had was unimpressed hate. Eraqus was so polite, talking lightly with the people around him. He continued to try to get to know Anthea, but, although she was polite, she had very little to say. She was distinctly inferior to Xehanort himself.

It wasn't until the salad course that she worked up the nerve to try to converse with Yen Sid, across from her, and Xehanort. "So, have you all been to one of these celebrations before?"

Yen Sid was great at being polite. "Yes; actually, I myself am warden of my own land as well and celebrated my Denarian four years ago. Still, my land if very quiet as of late, hence why I've been visiting the Land of Departure."

"Ah," Anthea was dragging her fork across her plate as she spoke. "I only attained my Mastery two years ago. Did all three of you attend?"

Eraqus nodded, then cringed and tilted his head to the side. "Well, I was and Master Adara was. Xehanort didn't make it."

Xehanort was taking a slow drink of water from his goblet, eyes shifting as this exchange went down. Anthea was giggling. "Hmm. Master Eraqus must be pretty special then, huh?"

Xehanort lowered his glass. "I assure you, it was only because work was so busy at the time."

"It was far less formal than this," Yen Sid eased the tension. "I must say, I have strayed from tradition much more than Eraqus."

"It would be difficult to keep any close to tradition than Eraqus," Xehanort noted. "Yen Sid and I, we take control of our lives. We live the way we want to."

"This is the way I want to live," Eraqus defended himself but kept his voice quiet. "I love being around people and these old ceremonies are so beautiful. I feel lucky to be part of this culture."

"But this is just what you've expected your whole life," Xehanort challenged. "How do you truly know this is what you want and not just what you're comfortable with?" 

"Those are two things I won't be able to separate, ever," Eraqus' tone remained neutral. (Oh, he was so good at playing nice in front of the Master.) "It has worked for countless people before me for decades. Statistically, the norm will most likely work out fine for me."

"You are your own person, Eraqus, no one says you have to live the life set out for you." Xehanort was raising his voice, trying to get people's attention, to put Eraqus on the spot, making him even a fraction as uncomfortable as he'd made Xehanort that morning. "If you're just going to grin and bear whatever fate has in store for you, I sincerely wish you the best. Nothing is guaranteed, and blind faith that things will always work themselves out won't save you. You really have to sit back and re-evaluate what you truly want out of life and focus your energy on that."

Eraqus was scowling. "You don't know what you want, Xehanort."

"At least I know I don't want this," Xehanort was on his feet, shoving his chair back. With the room in silence, just the way he liked it, he stormed out, leaving Eraqus to explain to a confused Anthea ' _What exactly was that all about_?'

Xehanort should've known the second he saw that ring that there was no longer a place for him in Eraqus' life. The lack of a chase out of the dining room further supported that claim (although he knew Eraqus cared about his reputation more than anything, so he expected no less). He'd decided playing along would only further reinforce Eraqus' unfounded belief that he was somehow above the rules, always able to have everything he wanted with the least effort possible. He wasn't even sad packing his things, because although it hurt him, he knew his absence would hurt Eraqus much more in the long run.

As he stuffed his belongings into his bag, a dark figure appeared in his door. All the lights were out in the room and the hall, leaving Eraqus barely silhouetted by the dim ambient light. He stepped over the threshold: "What the fuck is the matter with you?" his voice was low but ferocious.

Xehanort sighed, not pausing his packing efforts, back remaining to his companion. "We're done," he decided. "I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving."

"Because you're jealous of the life I live?" Eraqus challenged. "You could have it, Xehanort, you've gotten a chance so few people have -"

"This isn't about your life," Xehanort was annoyed now. "This is about her." The fact that Eraqus hadn't picked up on that further cemented his lack of affection for Xehanort.

This made Eraqus falter, reappraise how best to approach the situation. "We... we said we'd always be there for each other."

Xehanort paused, shaking his head and finally turning. "Don't go there. I _mean_ nothing to you."

"That's not true-" Eraqus tried to cut in.

"Then why are you giving up everything we've had?" Xehanort snapped. " _Years_ of my time you've wasted, Eraqus. I know I'm not important enough for you, but how did you let it get this far? Yes, you've talked about arranged marriages for years, but you've always had an excuse not to. Why now?"

Eraqus was tired, stolid. "We're thirty, Xehanort. You knew this was coming - things had to end sometimes. We were just kids..."

"So none of it meant anything to you." Xehanort's eyes were slits. "You would lead me on for fifteen years, just to go off and marry a stranger?"

"Love has nothing to do with marriage," Eraqus pleaded.

Xehanort exhaled heavily, scowling. "If you truly believe that, you have a miserable life ahead of you." He stepped closer, energy oppressive. "You didn't realize how good things were between us, how lucky we were to find something so easily. You missed your chance, and now I'm leaving and you're never going to find anyone like me again." He shouldered on his duffel bag, striding across the room and shoving his way past Eraqus, still in the door.

"Control your heart, Xehanort," Eraqus commanded as he stormed down the hall. "You are an emotional mess."

"At least I'm not a heartless bitch," Xehanort retorted, slamming the door at the end of the hall.

He rushed angrily to the courtyard, armor gauntlet on his arm, a heart that had no claim to Eraqus breaking for him. It was twilight out now, the sky blue and purple. At the far end of the courtyard, near the edge of the world, Eraqus had beaten him out, already in his armor, Keyblade in hand. 

"I can't let you leave, Xehanort," he yelled, voice emotional. "I want you to stay."

Xehanort exhaled. "It's too late for that," he murmured, donning his own armor and blade.

The first clash of their weapons was always the best, their energies bouncing off each other, casting wind around the courtyard. They hadn't fought physically as much as they used to, but they were still magnificently matched. Xehanort couldn't hurt Eraqus (not really, at least, even considering all he'd done), but it wasn't long until both were panting. His glowing blue blade was cast across the courtyard, striking Eraqus' block and knocking Master's Defender out of his hand. Within a second, Xehanort phased across the space, shoving Eraqus onto his back with his hands. hearing his armor crunch as it hit the cobblestone. Eraqus swept Xehanort's feet out from under him with his leg, casting him onto the ground. He was on Xehanort in an instant, grabbing him by his wrists, one in each hand. "I'm not letting you leave like this!" Eraqus cried. "You make me so fucking angry but I can't lose you!"

Panting, Xehanort went limp until Eraqus release him and climbed off. They faced each other on their knees, Xehanort reaching forward with a clawed hand, gingerly stroking Eraqus' mask, easing it off from where it had cracked in the back. When he revealed Eraqus' face (just one side, one eye), he felt surprisingly unmoved to see him in tears. "I'm sorry," he said evenly. "But I can't stay."

He got to his feet again, armor slightly scratched and dented, leaving Eraqus on his knees, teary. He summoned his glider, fetching his bag from the side of the ring.

"I will never regret anything we had," Eraqus slowly got to his feet, using his keyblade to prop himself up. "No matter what... you always have a home here."

Xehanort knew Eraqus wanted that to be true, but he also knew he'd never fit into his partner's life. He'd wasted enough time on someone who couldn't love him. He boarded his glider and lit off, ascending up to the stars, leaving a teary, battered Eraqus staring at the horizon. 


	2. The Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I start publishing this in February, obs I was going to get too busy with school (and covid shutting down/changing everything... epic) to remember it. I was completely out of the fandom and then they went and made kh dark road to remind me of THESE TWO and the fact that I should probably eventually finish publishing this before it's entirely canon non-compliant. I was really unsure of this chapter but it gets so dramatic that i just gotta stick with it. We're almost done with all the oc stuff so pleeeeaase bear with me. Hope you enjoy!

True to his word, Xehanort didn't return. With surprising ease, he severed all his ties with the world he'd once been so enamored by. A decade of research under his Master's terms had opened his eyes to life's less acceptable questions. Fuck the world order, fuck not being noticed. Before, he'd been limited to a week per world; now, he set up for months at a time. He could avoid annoying worlds without consequence, learn those he enjoyed from the inside out. He lived lives he never thought would be possible, did things he never could've imagined. He didn't think about going back to Eraqus often - he tried to keep his mind away from the idea.

He couldn't deny there were times where Eraqus' absence was painfully noticeable. He always managed to find ways to fill those gaps: sex, primarily. Men, women, aliens from Deep Space. No one had chemistry like they'd had; no one had both Eraqus' wit and physical prowess.

He was coming off a six-month stint in Agrabah - he'd spent the winter there, mostly warding off the cold, somewhat studying the intricate caste system and complex scripture. As the seasons began to change, it got too hot for his taste, plus, he always missed the sea. Unfortunately, customs here made promiscuity more difficult than other worlds (hello, ancient Greece!) and he was craving satisfaction knowledge couldn't give him. 

With optimism, he planned his return to a world he'd spent seasons in years ago: the Caribbean. The open ocean always called him back; it was a thankful bonus that this world was one where long absences weren't questioned. He dug out his armor, buried for so long at the bottom of his drawer, leaving his Arabic robes behind him and thankfully finding that he still had some swashbuckling clothes in his possession. He took off to the edge of town, litting on his glider and optimistically following his heart to a world he hoped would welcome him back.

He dropped on the wharf in Port Royal. It must have been three years since he'd last been here - his home of nearly a year. God, it was hard to believe so much time had passed since he'd last seen Eraqus yet his heart still help on like this.

When the sea air hit his lungs, it almost made him forget about Eraqus. It felt good to be back. He wondered what kind of reception he'd get. (He was never the best at impressions).

It wasn't long until people began to recognize him as he walked through the vaguely familiar streets, innocent townspeople assuming he was simply a pirate returning from sea. (Well, that was close, just with more steps).

"Aye!" A familiar face approached out of the crowd, shoving people away. Ah yes, this was an old neighbor, Jack or John or something along those lines. "If it isn't Cap'n Xehanort, back again, after all these years. I'd fancied you dead! Where, in God's name, have you been?"

Jack or John was clearly drunk, something Xehanort hoped to be soon. "The Southern Seas," he lied easily. "I trust you've kept my ship safe for me."

"Aye, 'tis not the only thing waiting for you," the other man was out of breath. "Madeleina has been waiting on your return."

It took Xehanort a moment to place the name. "The dancer?"

"The tart," his old neighbor laughed. "Anywho, I suggest you head o'er to the brothel posthaste. She didn't appreciate you avoidin' her for so long."

Madeleina had been one of Xehanort's favorite encounters on his many journeys - she was clever, she held her own in a conversation, she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met. If Xehanort was more nostalgic, he'd have called them friends. But that's all he saw them as - although they'd fucked (and fucked often), Xehanort would never be able to love her. Still, Jack (John?)'s cryptic nature primed his curiosity and he redirected his route from his old abode to the village's brothel.

Although it was morning, the house was busy, many familiar girls around, cleaning and socializing. They had always been kind to Xehanort, but shock was all that was on their faces today. Maybe three years was a little too long to go between visits.

The dusty windows always had filtered the light coming in, but Madeleina had always glowed regardless. Her hair was always so beautiful and smooth and long, beautiful, rich brown, cheeks rosy against her pale skin. There was a distinct lack of her beauty in the house today. He knew he'd have recognized her in a second, so where was she?

Another barmaid looked up as he walked closer, one he knew - Isobel, one of Madeleina’s friends. Her face was white as she stared Xehanort down as he approached.

"I really hope I'm seeing a ghost right now..." she marvelled softly. "You can't be back..."

"I am," he boasted, almost enjoying this reputation. (Did Eraqus think he was dead?) "I spent years abroad in the Southern Seas -"

"You really thought you could just come back, after all these years?" she questioned him loudly. "You weren't there for her when she needed you, and you thought it would all blow over?" Isobel’s face was red, her small hands clenched into tight fists. As she swung at his chest, Xehanort effortlessly caught her fist in midair.

"Where is Madeleina?" he demanded, Isobel's tiny fist contained in his own. "Why is everyone acting so strange?"

"She's dead," Isobel cried. "All because of you."

Xehanort was taken aback, eyes narrowing, releasing Isobel’s hand. "What?"

"Ten long months you lived in this port town - that's longer than any pirate I've ever known," Isobel accused. "More nights than not, you spent here. Ten months of her time you took, and you left without even a goodbye."

Xehanort exhaled. "I'm not... it wasn't personal."

"She loved you, you idiot," Isobel cried.

"I didn't ask for her to fall in love with me!" Xehanort exclaimed. "I paid like everyone else, and we were friends, but that was it."

"You and she talked for hours daily," Isobel accused, "and after you left, she was so insistent you'd be back. She believed in you!"

Xehanort's eyes were slit, his voice cold. "I'm not the kind of person she thought."

"Obviously not," Isobel lacked her friend's empathy. "You left her with child and without a second thought."

Xehanort faltered again.  _ "... what _ ?" It was more forceful than the first time.

"She never even got the chance to tell you," Isobel's eyes were red. "You were gone before she even knew. She died giving birth to your son, terrified and alone."

His heart stopped in his chest, his whole body growing cold. "That's... not possible." He had a son? He was probably the least qualified person to be a father; it was something he never considered, not even conceivable. Technically, it made sense - it was somewhere around the late seventeenth century, contraceptives weren't exactly widely available. (Xehanort always made sure to Cure quickly after any of his historical escapades - mostly for selfish reasons). He truly assumed that these kinds of things weren't possible, naively believing life in his world was more vital than in other worlds, that life didn't go on in these worlds like it did in Scala, or in the Islands. "There is no way..." he denied it.

"She was certain," Isobel insisted. "You were her only client for quite some time. She wasn't stupid. Now that you're back, I can't, in good conscience, lose another life to your hands!"

Maybe that's why Xehanort felt so sick. This whole foolish expedition seemed so pointless now that innocent people were being roped in. All this was because he was still heartbroken, even after five years, trying to forget an unrequited love by recklessly meandering through worlds, leaving a trail of broken hearts and cold beds behind him. Did leaving people the way Eraqus left him make him feel better? Now that a life was on the line - two lives, in fact - he was starting to wish he'd kept his suffering to himself.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he deflected. "It wasn't my fault-"

"Regardless of whose fault it is, there is a little boy starving in the orphanage thinkin' his ma and pa are long gone," Isobel berated him, "And I'm not lettin' you out of my sight until I know you're gonna take responsibility,” Isobel was grabbing his hand now. "You put this into Leina's life, it's time you repaid the favor."

Xehanort was so shocked that he could hardly react as Isobel dragged him through town, acquaintances staring, equally as shocked at the spectacle unfolding before them. It wasn't real to him yet; it all felt like a bad dream.

Xehanort had never been to the orphanage in his previous travels, but it was a dismal place. It was tiny, thin walls, babies crying. "Any life is better than this," Isobel told him.

The nun at the desk gawked as the two walked up. "Isobel, you didn't..." she gasped.

"Only took me three years," she huffed. "Will you give him what's his before he slips off again?"

"Aye," the clerk headed back. "I'll get Terra."

Xehanort stood helpless, thousands of thoughts running through his head. He didn't want this; there was no way he could raise a child in his current situation. Hell, he wasn't even qualified to take on students right now! Not to mention, he was still in denial - it was the 1700s, there were no paternity tests. He could bend time and fix things, maybe, but it was immensely hard unless you were planning it well in advance. Did he have it in him to kill the child (simply put him out of his misery; at least he told himself that) and never tell anyone? This child was better off without him, no matter how you looked at it.

The nun came back, leading a small boy by the hand. God, it truly had been a long time: Xehanort had expected a baby, but this little one was walking. As he laid eyes on the child, he began to see why Madeleina had been so sure - his thin nose, narrow chin, widow's peak and cowlick, all with her beautiful warm coloring. Beyond that, too, he possessed certain faculties as a Master: he could sense the light in the boy's heart, too bright to be ordinary.

"It was Madeleina's only wish that her son would have a good life," Isobel lectured him. "Terra is your responsibility - you have to provide for him what he will never have here."

Xehanort didn't know where to start. He couldn't kill the boy, not after laying eyes on him, not after seeing himself. Was he supposed to make a life here, raise the boy as a pirate? Should he take him to another world, a more forgiving one, and abandon him there? One thing was for certain: he could not take care of a child, for he could hardly take care of himself. Now, he was faced with a dilemma: if he had any respect for the young woman whose life he took away, he had to find her child a future.

"Terra," he repeated uncertainly.

"Aye," Isobel was bending before the boy. "This here is your father. He's goin' to take you home now." He looked up at Xehanort, blessed with Madeleina's blue eyes, untainted by darkness. Isobel linked their hands and thanked the clerk before heading off, presumably back to the brothel.

Uncertainly, Xehanort led Terra through town. This world, which had once felt like an escape, was suddenly far too small of Xehanort. He was realizing how short-sighted his recent goals had been - he'd been selfishly avoiding feelings for Eraqus for five years now, not really accomplishing anything other than wasting time. His coping had gotten out of hand, spiralling into unhelpfulness. Still, it wasn't that much of a waste: he knew he could never keep his mind off Eraqus, so attempting anything else would've been a half-hearted effort. 

As they approached his old abode, Terra's grip on his hand grew tighter. Prying back the board he'd sealed over the door, Xehanort revealed the dark and musty room, damp all on the ceiling, the windows dusted, small creaky bed sunken and mildewy, old papers poking out from beneath floorboards. He didn't know much, but no child deserved this.

"Is dis home?" Terra fearfully asked, pulling back at the threshold.

Xehanort's eyes were cold. "No." As if he knew what home was - he had no home, that's why he wandered these worlds. Destiny Islands was so far from anything he wanted: all it had given him was isolation, pain, judgement. No home was better than that.

Only one place had ever truly felt like home: at Eraqus' side.

And just like that, the pieces began to fall together in his mind. Eraqus surely had children by now, maybe even long enough ago that he'd be taking on students soon. Xehanort knew home for him no longer lied with Eraqus, but he would take excellent care of his son. (Was this the first selfless thing Xehanort had done? To him, it seemed like the logical and merciful solution.)

"No, this is not home," Xehanort repeated. "I'm taking you home now."

In the midday light, Xehanort abandoned this plan, weaving through the streets, vowing never to return to this world again. He took Terra to the jungle, high on the cliffs, far from where people could see them.

Keyblade travel was the ideal, but it was unfortunately a one-person method. Dark corridors had been in Xehanort's faculties for some time now, but he tended not to use them, especially not around Eraqus. They were not the most pleasant, the first few times in his teens proving almost painful.

"Alright, Terra, we are going to take you home," Xehanort spoke down to the boy. "I want you to hold on to me and not let go until we're on the other side."

Terra's eyes were wide, Xehanort's coat gripped tightly in his tiny hands, staring at the dark abyss before him. As Xehanort stepped forward, the child didn't budge. With resignation, he lifted Terra up onto his hip, tolerating him pressing his face into his shoulder, holding him tight as the darkness enveloped them both.

There was an uncertain half minute where they travelled between the two worlds, Xehanort's heart wavering. He knew what he would find would upset him: his heart had not healed in five years, and awkwardness would probably always remain. This was the right thing to do, objectively. He owed it to Madeleina.

When they finally reached the end of the corridor, they stepped out onto the edge of the Land of Departure. The air had always smelled the same here, bringing a bittersweet pressure into his heart. Slowly, he let Terra down, let him take it all in. It was always the same: curved architecture, immaculate courtyard, thin clouds high in the pale blue sky. It was different, too - quieter than Xehanort had ever seen. It was earlier here; perhaps Eraqus' young family was still asleep. The thought made Xehanort scowl with jealousy, grabbing Terra's hand and dragging him up the marble steps.

Part of him wanted to leave Terra here, to disappear again and try to forget the mess he'd made without a word to Eraqus. The other part (the more logical, honest part) knew that the reason he'd been so aimless and distracted over the past five years had been on Eraqus' part. Maybe some closure would let him move on to bigger, better things.

Terra gawked at the tall stone walls, golden embellishments glistening in the early morning light. The place was spotless; Xehanort expected no less of his old comrade. Still, the first halls, where many visitors had once stayed, were deserted. Perhaps Eraqus had finally outgrown his need to be surrounded by people.

Past the grand hall, up wide staircases, the two approached the Master suite. Still, not a soul had been seen, piquing Xehanort's curiosity. What was Eraqus up to?

They turned a corner, coming to a small sitting area, backlit by the top of a massive stained glass window, silhouetting Eraqus standing, staring them down in shock. The energy was unreal as Eraqus and Xehanort locked eyes - they'd each changed significantly since they'd last seen each other. Xehanort had shaved his head, trimmed his beard, Eraqus' hair was long as ever but his face was thinner, more angular, his childish optimism now all but gone. They were both still hurt, neither knowing who to blame. Their hearts knew each other, lighting and lifting.

Eraqus was the one to break the silence. His eyes fell, his head tilted down. "I am sorry."

Something Xehanort had never expected to hear nor see, Eraqus was genuinely remorseful. Part of him wanted to be cold - Eraqus deserved to be sorry - but the softer part of his heart pulled through and he blurted: "No, I'm sorry."

"No, I am truly sorry," Eraqus approached, taking his hands and getting on his knees. "It was wrong for me to treat you like that. You were right to leave. I sincerely ask for your forgiveness - I swear I've changed..."

Xehanort was shocked, truly in disbelief that Eraqus was this regretful. He had no idea how to react except with confusion, mirrored by a young Terra, mostly hidden behind his coat. "What is going on?" was all he could muster. "Where is everyone?"

Eraqus straightened up, eyes still sad, but face more serious. "Yes, I forgot just how long it's been. Please, come, sit." He eyed shy Terra behind Xehanort's cloak. "Is this your student?"

"... It's complicated," Xehanort rasped. "Would you mind if we get the boy something to eat?"

The three tread the well-worn path from the Master's quarters to the kitchen. Terra was thrilled with the white toast and jam Eraqus provided, eating contentedly on the bench while Eraqus and Xehanort faced each other in the hall, just beyond the threshold.

"I knew something was wrong," Eraqus admitted, "back then. I was feeling something but I didn't know what it was. I was scared to feel it - I didn't want to name it. I didn't know - didn't realize - it was because of you until you left." He was looking at his hands, almost nervous. "We always used to talk about how you felt lonely. D'you remember that, from when we were kids? You always said that  _ pervasive  _ loneliness followed you around."

"And I always blamed it on my parents," Xehanort recalled.

"Exactly!" Eraqus encouraged. "I... I never admitted it back then, but I've always kind of felt the same. After we graduated, after we became Masters and I moved here, I thought having people around would make it better. It  _ was _ better, too, but not because of them." He faltered, suddenly more sad. "It got so bad after you left. It didn't matter who I had around, I didn't feel..."

When he couldn't find the word, Xehanort offered, as he knew the feeling, "Challenged. Engaged. Protected. Needed."

"Exactly," Eraqus agreed, albeit less enthusiastically this time. "My heart just hurt on and on no matter what, so I figured if I had to feel lonely, I might as well be alone." He paused. "We were married before I realized, but we divorced after two months. All that money wasted, all those people to tell. My parents were furious; I barely see them anymore." Another beat, letting him lean back against the door frame pensively. "I found peace in solitude, as I'm sure you have long before me. This wasn't the life I'd envisioned for myself, but I won't resist it."

Xehanort had been pensively taking it all in. This had not been what he had expected in the least, so Eraqus had caught him truly off his guard. As his counterpart waited for a reply, all he could offer was, "I don't know what to say," somewhat weakly.

"It's okay! I understand," Eraqus insisted. "I'm not doing this to make you feel guilty or sorry for me - it's been years, you should be over me. I understand that I've missed my chance: I just..." he sighed. "I wanted to be honest with you. I needed to get that off my chest for years. Sorry if that's a lot to unload on you."

"It's fine," Xehanort managed, still taken aback. He couldn't fathom how to react: the love of his life was confessing that his heart would never be complete if they were apart. The world was his now - he just didn't know how he wanted it.

Eraqus mistook his hesitation for awkwardness. "That's enough about me," he managed, voice bittersweet. “Come, what brings you back after all these years? I never expected to see you with a student, either. Tell me about him!"

Eraqus' pleasantries made sense - he'd had years to prepare, knowing this day would come eventually, putting all his abstract feelings into words months ahead. Xehanort's mind was finally catching up as it became his turn to speak.

"He's not my student," he faltered, hardly able to get the words out: "he's... my son."

If it had been hard for Eraqus to believe Xehanort had a student, it was impossible to believe he had a child. Now, he was the speechless one. "Oh... congratulations..."

"It's not like that," Xehanort dismissed. "I never wanted this - I didn't even know he existed until today." He exhaled heavily before continuing, "I don't want children. I don't trust myself with them. I mean, look at me, I can hardly take care of myself. I could never keep him safe." Eraqus' eyes were widening with realization. "His mother is dead. Christ, I didn't even know!"

"He's off world?" Eraqus whispered. "Xeh, you're been -? That's against the rules!"

"That's why I can't take him back to Scala," Xehanort insisted. "They'll know in a second. I mean, look at him." The two peeked into the kitchen, the small boy sitting, content.

"I see it," Eraqus whispered. "Forgive me for not noticing before."

"If I take him, he'll be condemned. Hell, both he and I will probably be killed if anyone ever finds out," Xehanort admitted.

"Light, Xehanort, what have you been doing?" Eraqus accused. "You're going to fuck up time!"

Xehanort knew he would eventually. He just never figured it would be over something so miniscule. "I've been integrating," he admitted. "Learning, exploring. It was all so pointless. It was to try to get over you, which I should've known would never happen. Jesus, you know why I spent so long with his mother? Because she reminded me of you! The things she had to say, her mannerisms... that's all I was looking for all these years. I won't ever be able to accomplish anything since my heart is too dead set on you." His heart was racing in his chest, realization dawning on both of them. "The only time I felt where I belonged was years ago, at your side. Being around you...  _ that's  _ home for me. I don't trust myself to raise him, but I know you would give him the world.  _ That _ ... that is why I brought him here."

"You brought him here for me to take on," Eraqus filled in. They stood for a pensive moment, Eraqus considering Xehanort's offer (and confession).

"I know you planned to take on students -" Xehanort eventually rushed to fill the silence. "That's all I'm asking. He has a good heart. I expected - I thought the situation would be different. I understand if you can't."

Eraqus' face was still serious. "I would like us to take a walk. Will you do that for me?"

Xehanort was not in a position to say no, so the two walked. They circled the exterior of the tower, the light air billowing in their coats. They stopped in the courtyard, where they'd had their last conversation, years ago.

Sitting on a bench Eraqus finally spoke: "I want to preface this by saying I will take Terra. He deserves every opportunity to thrive and his other options are extremely limited. You have my word that no one will ever learn of his origins, not even him.” 

Xehanort bowed his head. "Thank you so much, old friend..."

"It is my duty," Eraqus dipped his head as well. "I brought you out here... to talk." It was difficult for him to get these words out. "My life is not what I'd expected, and many circumstances have been those which I have been ill-prepared for. I... I miss what we used to have. And I know I can't ask you to stay." He leaned back, placing his hand atop Xehanort's. "Your heart knows its calling. As much as we want each other, I don't want to make you choose."

Xehanort tenderly interlaced their fingers. "Perhaps I stayed away not because I wanted to, but because of the lack of a reason to stay." Eraqus looked down, their eyes meeting. "I've wanted you to ask for years," he whispered quietly. "The worlds are my escape from you when I can't have you. When I  _ can  _ have you... I don't want to let go." Eraqus' grey eyes widened with realization. "I want to marry you," Xehanort suddenly admitted. Silence filled the air, leaving only the breeze to flutter their coats.

Centuries - generations, really - of fear and shame and expectation loomed on Eraqus' shoulders, the hardest question of his life tearing his heart in half. He was speechless. After a moment, he managed, "I-I don't know what to say..."

"Your heart will know," Xehanort assured him. "What is it telling you?"

"That I love you," Eraqus' eyes were horribly sad uttering those three words. It had been on his chest for years - longer than they'd been apart, longer than he'd ever admit. He loved Xehanort entirely, altruistically; he wanted to give his dearest friend the world.

"Then marry me," Xehanort moved off the bench, taking both of Eraqus' hands, down on one knee. "I promise I'll stay. Please."

"Yes-" Eraqus said breathlessly, almost impossible for he himself to believe. "I... I want to marry you..."

"I never want to let you go," Xehanort pledged. "You are my dearest and most trusted friend. Please, share your life with me."

"Xehanort, you've been everything I've ever needed. You've given me love, you've given me a son, and yet I still hesitate." Eraqus' eyes were red, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "Forgive my foolishness..."

"You cannot have known different - it was how you were raised," Xehanort accepted. "Terra will not have this - we will give him a good life, away from the pressures of Scala ad Caelum."

"We only need each other," Eraqus was smiling through the tears. "It makes so much sense..."

The lonely leading the lonely, neither considering the consequences - the details - a marriage would entail. Their logic clouded by love, their intuition stilted by unrealistic hopes. Still, this was inevitable: neither would be able to move on without this resolution, so the two willingly entered an unlikely marriage.

Short months later, the two were wed privately in the Land of Departure. Yen Sid had been ordained a minister at some point in his travels and agreed (unenthusiastically) to officiate their wedding. No old friends attended - neither their Master nor their old classmates nor Eraqus' parents knew about it until it was done. Both were so relieved to have their hearts bonded that nothing else seemed to matter: just them in their finest robes, matching rings, a world to share, eternity at their disposal.

Eraqus was an innate father, welcoming Terra into his heart effortlessly. Xehanort was fond of the boy, but not in the same way Eraqus was. So as not to raise suspicions, Eraqus began arrangements to take on another student shortly after the wedding. He hated growing up as an only child and didn't want the same for Terra; he knew a sibling would be Terra's friend through life. Eraqus truly viewed Terra as his child, his heart tender and weak with emotion. Those first few months, both he and Xehanort were so changed that things were incomparable to before. They were still naïve enough to believe that love was all they needed. 


	3. The Fall

But, as they both should've known,  The sweetest intentions spoiled the fastest. They'd forgotten that there was a very real reason they had never stayed together: their ferocious disagreements. Of course, they were kept at bay for the first few months, each still in disbelief that they'd even gotten a second chance at a life together.

Everything was as perfect as it could have been: they had each other, a home, a son (their own Keyblade legacy). They accepted their feelings for each other. They were married, for Light's sake, 'til death do they part. This was their chance, their time; it should've worked.

But it didn't. Within months, they started fighting again, first about nothing (just the mundane), but as they ran out of things to argue about, they started to disagree on things that made them question their faith in each other.

They tried to make it work. Xehanort was realizing his life's purpose was not to love Eraqus. Having him freed his mind: no longer was he always pining, always wondering, always longing for Eraqus. Love was not all it was cracked up to be.

Through it all, they stayed together. Some nights, they slept alone; others, apologies were whispered and they crawled back in together. Years passed; Aqua, a new student, was welcomed into their family. She was specially chosen by Eraqus: her parents were Masters, but she was given up for adoption. (They had been too busy with other things: seeking knowledge, traversing worlds, all things Eraqus deemed foolish). She had spent her childhood in the orphanage of Scala ad Caelum - a balanced and nurturing environment, but not one that would support her as a one-on-one Master would. She held great promise from the first time Eraqus laid eyes on her. She brought shy Terra out of his shell and would make a great ally to him for the rest of his life.

She and Terra were each too young at the time to remember when they weren't together; from then on, Terra was freed from Xehanort's fatherhood - he became equal to the orphan girl from Scala. The kids grew well together, nurtured, kept away from tradition and shielded from their Masters' fights. Eraqus knew Terra was terrified of their screaming matches, but Aqua made it better.

It was around when the kids were six that things truly fell apart. The two were finally beginning their training, spearheaded solely by Eraqus. Lessons that young were quite simple: reading, writing, physical activity. It kept both children and Eraqus occupied, so things had been alright between him and Xehanort.

The latter spent most of these days in his study. Although the Land of Departure had been his home for years, he spent most of his time segregated to the bedroom, the courtyard, the great hall, and the study. The land almost seemed to resist him, never really allowing him to belong (at least not in the same way Eraqus did).

But, he enjoyed himself nonetheless, losing himself in the literature. Access to everything he ever could have wanted broadened his mind more than ever before - he was thinking of things no one had thought of before. Eraqus gave him that time; during their regular silent treatments, he holed up in the study and thought and thought until he passed out from exhaustion. 

He'd learned a lot in his travels; he'd seen the lack of balance in almost every world he'd been to. Everywhere he went, there was an imbalance of power: people meaninglessly at the top, living easy while hard workers were not rewarded. Everywhere he went, there was death and famine, illness, greed, selfishness. There was so much darkness, overpowering the light. Balance started slipping away the instant the universe was created, straying farther from the ideal each day.  Everybody had settled, assuming other, smaller, problems were worth their attention. Why bother defeating darkness in one world if it would instantaneously return in a thousand others? A solution to the universe's discontent was apparent in all the history books: a purge had already happened once and this world came out on the other side. The Keyblade War had summoned Kingdom Hearts, and light had been reborn.

But that had been centuries ago; this world had grown stale, ill, and lame. Kingdom Hearts needed to come again, for the good of the universe. He knew there was a way, but it would take him years of focus to reach that.

There was so much in the ancient books that the Land of Departure housed; solutions to problems he couldn't have even fathomed. Gazing eyes to the events of the future, hearts travelling through time, implantations of the self to another. He had options - all he had to do was figure out what to try in which order.

Eraqus didn't have much of an idea what Xehanort spent his days doing; he figured he was better off not knowing (and he was right). Things were okay when the two weren't talking.

This afternoon, specifically, Xehanort was working thoroughly. He knew he was close to a breakthrough, months of work on the table before him. All he had left to do was put the pieces together. He knew he needed darkness and light to clash, but in a more refined, pure way than the day to day. He needed  _ essence  _ of darkness and _essence_ of light, but the two were so hard to find in their elemental forms. People drew primarily from one or the other, but he knew that wouldn't be enough. Princesses of heart were pure light, but it was unlikely he would find one that would put up a decent fight. Hearts of darkness were debatable - theoretically, they should be too unstable to exist. It was uncertain exactly what heartless were made of, but if they contained the hearts of real people, they should have darkness and light, even if they were beings of darkness. It seemed like the best way to get darkness and light separately was to focus on an individual; separate the two and allow the conflict to take over. It would take an incredibly strong heart to be able to survive. To get that amount of balance would be difficult to time: at birth, hearts are dominated by light, and by adulthood, darkness would be in the majority (whether it was called upon or not). The perfect balance would only exist somewhere in the teen years.

Xehanort knew finding a suitable subject would likely take years, but he had no choice. The fate of the universe depended on it. He just hoped he'd have time to see it out in his lifespan. There was one thing that he knew would make his goal infinitely easier - a certain gazing eye sitting in his Master's study. No Name deserved to be his; he would put it to better use than it had in generations.

So what was stopping him?

A gentle knock on the door brought Xehanort out of his focus. Instinctively, he closed to book in front of him as the door was opened. He turned to find Eraqus leaning against the door frame. His expression was gentle but tired, pleading but suspicious. "Hey."

Silences between them were the norm now. "Hello," Xehanort tried to keep his voice neutral.

"I made tea," Eraqus offered. "Would you like some?"

"That would be nice," Xehanort's words were short. He stacked up his notes as Eraqus came in, turning sheets face down so as not to raise suspicions. Eraqus poured him a glass and leaned against the table, facing the other direction. Neither of them knew what to say anymore.

"I'm sorry," Eraqus started, as if that would fix anything now. "About last night."

Oh yes, they'd fought the night before. Clearly, it was bothering Eraqus more than it was bothering him. Something about the kids, the way they were raising them. Xehanort had been the instigator, encouraging Eraqus to teach the students things about darkness, things Scala had neglected to look at. Eraqus, clearly, had been opposed, and they'd fought about it for an hour. Xehanort had gotten over it; he knew it would take Eraqus a long time to warm up to the idea, but he had to start somewhere.

"It's alright," he dismissed, placing his hand on Eraqus'. "Really, I'm over it."

"Thanks.” There was more silence. Eraqus looked back over at the desk. "What are you working on today?"

Was his curiosity finally becoming that great? "Nothing particularly interesting," he lied easily and attempted to change the subject. "How are the students?"

"Playing in the courtyard," Eraqus dismissed. His thumb stroked Xehanort's fingers. "They're such good friends. They remind me of how we used to be."

Yes, it was not much older than that age when the two had met; when Xehanort had first arrived at Scala ad Caelum. Before, it would've made him sad and nostalgic to think that he and Eraqus were not good friends anymore. Now, he realized it was just a cheap ploy, attempting to reach his emotions. Love only ever brought pain; he was beyond that now. When he had no response, Eraqus went on, "they keep me so busy. I really don't know how you keep yourself so occupied."

"There's enough to read in here to keep me occupied for a lifetime," Xehanort deflected.

"I sometimes feel like I have no idea what you're doing," Eraqus absentmindedly picked up one of the books on the desk. "Are we growing that far apart?"

Xehanort pulled his hands back to his lap. "Don't you trust me?"

Eraqus looked back and, unfortunately, hesitated. "It's hard to trust what you can't see."

Xehanort stood, taking the book from Eraqus and returning it to the shelf. "That's called faith," he quipped.

Eraqus was frowning. "I know, I'm sorry. I just... I've had a bad feeling. It’s probably nothing; I don't mean to take it out on you."

"You don't have to apologize," Xehanort looked back at him. 

"Alright," Eraqus' face was a little sad. "... If anything  _ is  _ wrong, you can tell me." Xehanort nodded, wordlessly returning to the desk. "I love you." The elder didn't respond. Eraqus continued to drink his tea, pretending not to care. After a long pause, Eraqus spoke again: "I'm teaching Terra and Aqua the history of the Keyblade War this afternoon. Would you like to come along and help me?"

Xehanort didn't like upsetting Eraqus (or, furthermore, making him suspicious), so he felt obliged to agree. He was impressed at the strides Eraqus' students were taking: he knew they would be powerful wielders one day. Already, both showed focus, balance, obedience and intuition.

After their lesson, he sat outside watching the two wrestle and play in the yard while Eraqus prepared dinner. The change of scenery was good for his mind, allowing him to think more clearly. Coming to new conclusions, he stood to go in. The kids would be alright on their own until dinner.

He took the thinner, secondary staircase up to the study, trying to hold onto his most recent thought. However, his focus was disturbed as he found the study door cracked open, just barely. Anxiety began to swell in his heart as he pushed the door open fully, finding all the lights off except for the desk lamp. Standing at the desk with a face full of rage and horror was Eraqus, with Xehanort's plans sprawled on the table before him.

"What the hell are you doing?" his husband's voice was low.

"What are  _ you  _ doing?" Xehanort countered. "Get away from my things! Don't you trust me?"

"Clearly, I have reason not to," Eraqus' face was filled with disgust. "Please tell me none of this is serious." Xehanort continued to stand in the doorway, eyes narrow, posture tense. Eraqus' face was taut. "You're scaring me."

"You have no reason to be afraid!" Xehanort challenged. "You think I haven't thought things through? I know what's right -"

"You honestly think summoning Kingdom Hearts is right?" Eraqus interrupted. "Have you ever considered the torment everyone will have to go through - the lives that will be lost - to even come close?"

"It must be done!" Xehanort insisted. "For the good of all worlds!"

"You're willing to risk killing everyone?" Eraqus demanded. Xehanort's lack of response spoke volumes. Eraqus was scowling.

"You need to open your mind," Xehanort insisted. "If you understood darkness at all, you'd see my point. Death is meaningless - if a thousand are going to die in poverty, why not make it two thousand to stop it from happening ever again?"

Eraqus was breathing heavily, eyes not moving from Xehanort, two like predator and prey. "You are sick, Xehanort," the dark haired man warned. "You need to learn that there are some questions that should never be asked."

"You will not be able to change my mind," Xehanort insisted.

Eraqus laughed at the preposterousness. "This will never happen. This isn't the kind of thing one person can do. The Master's Council will stop you before you even get a chance! Pursuing this is only going to get you killed, and putting me and our kids at risk -"

"They're  _ your  _ students,  _ not  _ our kids," Xehanort snapped deliberately.

Eraqus tried to cut in: "Terra is your -"

"He is not my son!" Xehanort bellowed. Eraqus was shaken, face pale. "You're a fool if you think our Master wouldn't have let us die for her. Love only gives you something to lose."

Eraqus' frown was wavering. "I don't even know who you are anymore..." he blubbered.

"This had  _ always  _ been me," Xehanort drawled. "You've only ever looked at the parts you've wanted to see."

Eraqus was speechless, his whole world changing before his eyes. Xehanort wasn't the curious romantic he wanted. His husband was not who he expected. Xehanort was intimidating, approaching with his hand outstretched. "Give me the plans."

Eraqus looked slowly from his hand to the notebook clutched to his chest. "I can't let you do this," he whispered after a long pause. "I can't let them kill you..."

"Don't worry," Xehanort ripped the book from his shocked fingers. "They won't."

Eraqus' heart started to beat faster as Xehanort slipped out of the study. He'd seen the notes; he knew how real these plans were. Xehanort was literal to a fault, so Eraqus believed he was capable of murder. He unintentionally had spurred his spouse on this mission and there was no taking back what had been seen. Xehanort could destroy all of existence, and the only person who had the slightest inkling was Eraqus.

He had no choice. He had to stop him.

With panic, he tore out of the study, scrambling to his room for his armour gauntlet and rushing outside to where the children played. "Terra, Aqua!" he called, out of breath. The two, unbeknownst, looked up at their Master as he rushed at them, grabbing their shoulders. "The two of you must go inside now. Go to your room and hide under your bed until I come find you, alright?" Their eyes were wide with fear. "Do you understand?" he barked.

"Yes, Master!" Aqua cried, taking Terra's hand and tearing off up the stairs.

Eraqus donned his armor, Master's Defender in his hand, poised and waiting. Like a shock of cold, the energy changed, and he turned to find Xehanort already on the far end of the courtyard, armored and ready. Oh, how alike things were to Xehanort’s first departure. Eraqus cast a protective bubble around the two, trapping them in.

Only he could stop this.

"Xehanort, this isn't right!" Eraqus screamed. "You're breaking my heart..."

"Then it is weak," Xehanort easily retorted.

The two clashed together, yin and yang, on opposing sides again. They were vicious, blades wheeling, magic sparking. They were fighting for their lives. The ground shook beneath them, both and their full capacity, both shaking and panting and waning. Neither had the high ground; Eraqus couldn't count on anything.

And then, very suddenly, there was an opening. His guard led to Xehanort's recoil, allowing him to pound back a few combos. Knocking Xehanort onto his back, his keyblade was at his partner's neck in a second. The two were breathless, almost forgetting they could speak. Wordlessly, he drew his blade lower, over the centre of Xehanort's chest, over his weak spot. Eraqus' throat was tight, tears starting to spill over. Xehanort was watching him with curiosity, not moving.

But there, when he was ready to make the fatal blow, he hesitated. Memories pulled at him, his heart clenched. He should've known he couldn't bring himself to kill the man he loved. He had been foolish to believe he could stop Xehanort, for he knew he would not be stopped outside of death.

And that moment of hesitation was all it took. Xehanort phased out of existence, respawning behind him, knocking him on his front. Xehanort had known Eraqus would let him go.

"If it's any consolation, none of this is your fault," Xehanort croaked. " Perhaps one day, you will understand."

"This isn't right!" Eraqus cried. "Please, I beg you, if you've ever loved me, then stay..."

Xehanort looked back from the edge of the ring. "I can't let anyone hold that kind of power over me," he dismissed, drawing his blade again and shattering the field limit. A winded Eraqus could only watch and cry as blue shards fell around him. "And dry those eyes," Xehanort's voice now sounded a mockery of tender. "Teariness doesn't suit a Master."

Helpless, Eraqus watched Xehanort go, boarding his glider and disappearing into the Lanes Between. He didn't want to know what would come, he didn't want to deal with the humiliation or shame associated with marrying - with loving - a traitor. All he could do was kneel and scream and pray his heart would stop hurting.

Xehanort was satisfied with his indifference; it was enough to prove he wouldn't miss Eraqus. Their love was so deeply rooted in hindsight, always thinking back to the good times that never really existed. They conflated the stability and purpose of their youth in Scala ad Caelum with being around each other. Xehanort knew Eraqus would be fine without him; he was too light-obsessed to truly ever be Xehanort's husband.

Their arguments never failed to challenge Xehanort's mind. Eraqus had brought up a good point - Scala ad Caelum housed dozens more sharing his spouse's opinion, all equally powerful but far less merciful. He knew how to take care of Scala, and he'd already have to stop there to pick up his Keyblade. Two birds, one stone.

At this time, he was accrediting his emotional distance to his recent acceptance of the darkness in his heart. Traditionally, only the light was drawn on in Keyblade Mastery, but by using both darkness and light, even higher goals were attainable. He didn't want to be held back by fixations anymore; he could only reach his true potential by seeing beyond.

It was already dark in Scala ad Caelum when he arrived, and he was pleasantly unmoved where he used to be nostalgic. All these people, dozens of students and Masters, were all content with the suffering in the world because it didn't affect them. Xehanort was the only one willing to risk for change. 

He ascended the ancient slopes, into the palace at the top of the main island. It was quiet, working to his advantage. He followed the well-worn steps to the study, ever the same as he and Eraqus had left it after their graduation decades ago. There, on the wall, sat No Name, calling him like a magnet, aching for his touch. He approached, basking in its glory, appreciating its details. It was his for the taking; all he had to do was lift his hand and it materialized: heavy, cold, centuries of power coursing through his veins. With the gazing eye in hand, everything seemed right: he had no doubt that he would achieve his goal, he knew everything he would do was just a means to an end.

He knew with No Name missing, it would only be a matter of time before everyone was alerted, so he had to work quickly. He'd actually been taught about the destruction of worlds in this very room - it was in Scala's history that the subject had arisen. This world used to be another, on the verge of being consumed by darkness. A powerful Master rearranged it, preserving it and all its secrets from ruin. In this stage, it could've been restored, but instead, Scala became populated and a new history was made. Worlds can only be rearranged once, so if Scala was destroyed, all would be destroyed. Xehanort didn't hesitate at this; he saw no flaw in the diluted art of the Keyblade slowly dying off.

He'd read on how to do it. In worlds like this, so primarily bright, it would only take a little darkness to tip the scales. He ascended to the highest room, an open hall, energy coursing through the walls. It was like picking a lock - lining up the energy fields with his new key until they interfered, the floor beneath him lighting in red and rising up. An intricate dance, tipping the scales so the blue, starry sky filled with an enveloping darkness, making it hard to see. The disk raised above his head, reaching to the edges of the world. The ground shook with energy, the edges already starting to come loose. People were coming out of their houses, but it didn't feel like panic to Xehanort. It happened fast, lightning striking on the ground, a massive black hole forming in the centre. It was irreversible, he knew it: even the best Masters here wouldn't be able to stop him.

He was impressed how easily the world fell to darkness, crumbling before him. He didn't care what would happen to the people, he wasn't bothered. No Name in hand, he stepped through a Dark Corridor, leaving his past behind forever.

Eraqus tried not to react, but he felt the loss the second it happened. It was hard enough trying to comfort Terra and Aqua - they'd been terrified by the sound of the battle earlier. The cold dread in his heart grew into pain very suddenly and he had to excuse himself from the table where he sat with his students. It was barely dusk, but from the window, he watched the brightest star in the sky flicker and go out. It was physically painful to have so many connections severed all at once - his parents, his Master, all his friends. He couldn't stop himself from crying out, watching his world fall apart.

And through it all, he wasn't mad at Xehanort. He was heartbroken, but still defending his spouse even to himself (Xehanort was confused, he was wronged, he was manipulated). That's how he knew his love was true. He stood there weeping, wishing he could have changed Xehanort's path, wishing he'd held on a little longer. He only blamed the darkness, swearing to never let something like this happen again.

"Master Eraqus?" a tentative voice reached out from behind. He turned to find Terra poking his head around the corner. "Are you okay?"

He wiped his face quickly, regaining his composure. He was being foolish; he couldn't be weak like this in front of his students! In fifteen years of training with his Master, he had never once seen a break in her stony visage. "Everything is alright," he assured Terra.

"Where did Master Xehanort go?" Terra naively asked.

"Away," Eraqus dismissed. "Come here. Aqua, you too."

The two children tentatively revealed themselves from behind the door. "Terra, Aqua," he put one hand on each of their shoulders. "From now on, it's just the three of us." The two barely knew of the world of Scala ad Caelum, so the loss wasn't the same for them. "Everything I do from this moment forth will be to keep the two of you safe. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," the two chorused, well trained.

He loved these children and he wanted them to know it - even if their parents weren't there for them, their Master would be. He embraced them and led them back to the dining room. He'd failed to protect his world, but he would not let the darkness win ever again. 


End file.
